After Life
by vainhedgepig
Summary: A long time into a future AU, Rachel's family say goodbye as she prepares to be reunited with her soulmate. WARNING: Involves character death (sort of) and plenty of angst, but I promise it'll have a happy ending. Rated M for language, subject matter and possible smut at a later date.
1. Chapter 1 - Good Night

**Preface**

In this AU, Finn and Rachel's story exactly mirrors that of Cory and Lea. A Monchele version is posted on my Tumblr account to respect Fanfiction's terms of service. Please don't hate on me too much for this — it's just my way of coping.

**Chapter 1: Goodnight**

Rachel Berry sat in her armchair, surrounded by reminders of her glory days — framed Playbills from her starring roles in Wicked, West Side Story and of course her favourite, Funny Girl gazed at her from the walls of her sitting room; her highly-polished Tony awards gleamed on the mantelpiece among a multitude of others and her Teen Choice awards were mounted on the opposite wall. Brightly-coloured surfboards were an odd choice of decor for an 86-year-old, but they meant a lot to her and she refused to move them elsewhere.

On the end table next to her chair stood a series of photographs in various silver frames. Every important phase of her life was represented — Spring Awakening's opening night, stills from Glee, her marriage, the birth of her children, family holidays to Disneyland, her son's graduation, her daughter's first night on Broadway… her eyes scanned the table, resting as they always did on a picture of her 26-year-old self, cuddling with her then-boyfriend, huge smiles on their faces. She could remember the moment it was taken as though it were yesterday. Finn had been obsessed with recording his experiences ever since she had known him, either with his Flip Cam or iPhone and this "selfie" was one of hundreds they'd taken together. That afternoon in Victoria they'd met his mother for coffee, then wandered down to the waterfront and watched the sun set, its orange hues reflected in the ripples on the water. They'd both stood there for a while in total silence, not having to say a word. All communication between them was conveyed through the touch of a hand, the leaning of her head against his chest, the feeling of fingers intertwining in a familiar pattern — her pinky sandwiched in between his index and middle fingers. As it had started to grow dark, she looked up, seeing him truly peaceful for the first time in a few months. She smiled up at him as he kissed her temple and draped his arm around her shoulder, still holding her hand as they walked back towards the hotel. It was a perfect evening, and yet when she looked at it now her memories were tinged with sadness. What she couldn't have known then was that she had less than two months left with her beautiful boy and that the photo would be the first thing she Tweeted after his death.

Christopher watched his mother thoughtfully as she ran her frail fingers over the face in the picture frame before picking up the diamond necklace draped over the frame and tracing the contours of the stones which spelled out her lost soulmate's name, unbidden tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. He'd seen her do it practically every day since he could remember and his heart broke for her every time.

It was a very strange thing to be the child of two people who, if fate had gone the right way, should never have been together. If the universe had worked its magic properly, his Mom would have been with Finn, probably married with a few kids, and his Dad, Tony, wouldn't have lost his first wife, Ann, to cancer. But the world had been especially unfair to his parents and it was only because of all those twists of fate that he and his sister Mia existed.

His Mom and Dad had met in the theatre — his Mom was the leading lady and his Dad the stage manager. They'd both been bereaved around five years previously and it gave them a shared experience over which to bond. They slowly came to trust, then to love each other, resolving to lead happy lives together and not waste another moment of this precious life, although there was a mutual understanding that no love could ever replace that of their respective 'endgames'.

They got married three years later and shortly after that, Christopher arrived. He had been named after Finn and was raised knowing what a great man his namesake was. In fact, he heard so many stories about Finn and Ann that he always felt like he had four parents instead of two. When his sister was born four years later, she was given one of Ann's middle names. As strange as their dynamic might have seemed to the outside world, they were a very happy family. If untimely death had taught their parents anything, it was to make the most of every day, to live as though tomorrow were your last and to leave a legacy of love behind you. Their family was always involved with fundraising for the causes closest to their hearts and when Christopher graduated with a masters in public relations, he made his parents proud by creating a non-profit PR agency specifically for charities. Mia, meanwhile carried on the "family business" by performing in a series of hit musicals on Broadway.

As a family, they would go on special trips on the major anniversaries of the deaths, mostly to Vancouver for Finn's and Ohio for Ann's. He vivdly remembered a conversation he'd had with his Mom on one of those trips as they drove down the California coast to the beautiful viewpoint near Big Sur where some of Finn's ashes had been scattered. He'd stopped there on the way to his Glee audition and thought it was the most idylic place he'd ever seen. Years later, he'd taken a roadtrip with Rachel to find that spot again and now she and Christopher were repeating the journey. Rachel recalled the conversation she'd had with her grandmother on her deathbed — as she clutched her hand tightly, she'd told Rachel not to cry, not to be sad, because she would be reunited with her beloved husband and she would be sure to give Finn a big hug, tell him how much his girl still loved him and take care of him until they were all together again. Those were the last words Rachel's grandmother had said and now, Christopher thought, her own last words were probably not that far away.

Rachel's health had been gradually declining for the last couple of months and now she was recovering from a bout of pneumonia. She looked frail and she was unable to do much without help now, but she didn't seem scared. Her doctors had warned the family that she was simply old, vulnerable to infections and that any further medical intervention was futile, a position which Rachel herself wholeheartedly agreed with. In her usual, matter of fact way, she said she didn't want to be kept alive for the sake of it and it was pointless prolonging the inevitable, especially when she fully believed she would somehow be reunited with her soulmate when she passed away.

Over the next few weeks, Rachel's condition deteriorated further. She was now bed-bound and slept most of the day, due in part to the painkillers her doctors had prescribed, only waking for meals and brief conversations with her husband and children. Christopher and had moved her precious photo collection to her bedside table so she could gaze at them whenever she wanted and she did so often, thinking about everything she'd acheived in her life — her shows, awards, children, marriage — and also dreaming of what was to come. She was pretty sure that just on the other side Finn was waiting for her to arrive, greeting her with that beautiful, lop-sided grin and pulling her into a hug which would last for the rest of eternity. She'd be back in his arms and all the heartbreak would be forgotten.

Overnight, her breathing became more laboured and the doctors prepared her family for what was to come. Mia called in her understudy and joined her father and brother in the vigil at her mother's bedside. For most of the time Rachel just slept peacefully, although any slight change in her breathing had the family on edge, anticipating the worst. Then around three in the morning, her eyes fluttered open, staring intensely at her daughter, then turning her head.

"What's wrong, Mom, what do you want?" Mia asked, stroking her hair softly and following her Mom's eyeline, falling on the picture of Finn.

"Don't worry Mom, he'll be there waiting for you, I know he will," she murmured reassuringly, squeezing her Mom's hand but Rachel shook her head and continued to stare at the picture.

Christopher knew that look. "It's not the picture, it's the necklace. You want to wear the necklace, right Mom?"

Mia took the diamond-encrusted keepsake from its hanging place on the picture frame and lifted her mother's neck slightly to slip the necklace around and fasten the clasp, positioning the name centrally on her chest right under the diamond solitaire— the Christmas gift from Finn which she'd worn every day since his passing — her Mom silently thanking her with a smile and a tiny squeeze of her hand.

"I love you guys," she said, a single tear eascaping from her right eye.

Rachel's gaze then turned back to Tony, looking into his mahogany-coloured eyes, her breathing becoming laboured and ragged. "Thank you," she managed to rasp, trying desperately to convey just how much his selfless love had meant to her throughout the years. This was it. They all knew it.

"Good night sweetheart, time to go finish what you started with Finn," Tony said, kissing her forehead and gently stroking her temple as her eyes closed sleepily.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Quantum Leap

Thanks so much for the reviews so far. I know it's kind of weird to think about Lea/Rachel being with anyone else, but I'm pretty sure Cory/Finn would want her to make the most of her life and be happy even without him. After all, they're still endgame.

This chapter gets a lot more angsty, but I promise it'll all turn out okay.

In this AU, Finn and Rachel's story exactly mirrors that of Cory and Lea. A Monchele version is posted on my Tumblr account to respect Fanfiction's terms of service. Please don't hate on me too much for this — it's just my way of coping.

**Chapter 2 — The Quantum Leap**

Rachel smiled as she took her last breath. She'd waited almost 60 years for this moment — never scared of death because she firmly believed that when she died she would get to be with Finn again. Each day of life had brought her one day closer and now was the moment of truth. She took one last look at the amazing man who'd accepted and loved her despite always knowing that he was playing second fiddle to her lost love. She closed her eyes for the last time and heard her heartbeat slow and finally stop.

There was no tunnel of light, no floating above her loved ones, nothing that bore any resemblance to the out of body experiences some people described. She just fell into a dreamless sleep. Some time later, she started to become aware of her surroundings again. At first it was just a feeling of warmth, excitement (was it normal to be excited about dying?) and happiness, then she realised she was feeling exactly how she used to feel when she was wrapped up in his big arms with his giant body somehow fitting perfectly behind hers, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. This was her safe place. Nothing could hurt her here. Every night they were together they fell asleep in each other's embrace and every morning they woke each other with strategically-placed kisses, the memory of which was so vivid she could almost feel it now. The feeling of desire she got as his hands roamed smoothly across her skin, while his lips left light marks on her neck, paying special attention to the dip just below her earlobe which he knew drove her crazy.

Gradually, she noticed more physical elements, like the persistent, rhythmic pushing of his fingers against her left breast. Which was weird because, although he had loved her boobs, he was more into tenderly caressing them, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger or taking them into his mouth and worrying the nub gently with his teeth than prodding them like this. It was actually quite painful and she began to get annoyed with him for his lack of sensitivity, but then a noise faded in. Like a quiet humming.

Rachel cautiously opened one eye, not sure quite what to expect. She'd just died, so she was kind of expecting fluffy white clouds and angels playing harps, maybe her loved ones surrounding her, Finn waiting to welcome her into heaven, or whatever this place was. She peered down at her chest to see what was prodding at her, hoping against hope that she'd see Finn's sweet face grinning up at her. She was wrong. Instead, she was greeted by her old cat, Sheila, purring as she repeatedly kneaded at Rachel's breast with her paws, as she often did when she wanted to wake her human. Although disappointed it wasn't Finn, Rachel was both relieved that he didn't think all that insensitive poking at her boobs would turn her on and also overjoyed to see Sheila again. She'd lived a long and happy life, eventually succumbing to old age and though Rachel had adopted many other cats over the years, she never found one quite like Sheila. As soon as the cat realised her mistress was awake, Sheila got off her chest and padded across the duvet to rub her face against Rachel's cheek.

"Hello baby girl! Oh, I missed you so much!" Rachel cooed, giving Sheila a good rub behind the ears. She sat up slightly in bed, while Sheila curled up against her chest and enjoyed a morning cuddle, purring loudly.

As she continued stroking the tortoiseshell feline, she noticed that her hands were different. No longer wrinkled with thin skin and age spots but youthful again. She briefly touched her hand to her face, confirming for herself that it, too, was now blissfully wrinkle-free.

Rachel's joy at being reunited with her favourite pet and twenty-something skin had distracted her from the giant elephant in the room — where the hell was she? Shielding her eyes from the morning sun, she looked around and instantly recognised the bedroom of her west Hollywood bungalow. The crisp, white duvet lay pretty much untouched on the left side of the king size bed, crushing any hopes she had of Finn being somewhere in the house. She remembered the day she bought it, the furniture store guy raising an eyebrow at the 5' 2" girl buying such a massive bed, but she had to account for her giant of a boyfriend and his penchant for a face-down starfish sleeping position on the nights when he fell asleep before she got home from work. He was a deep sleeper, she recalled, and it was almost impossible to move him once he'd settled in for the night, although she had figured out one or two ways to wake him, she remembered with a satisfied grin. At least with a king size she'd been able to find a corner of the bed to curl up in. When the roles were reversed, she'd invariably find herself "accidentally" woken up by him kissing her forehead, temple and neck. He'd eventually confessed that seeing her tiny little body curled up in the middle of the huge expanse of bright white sheets, looking all lost and vulnerable, brought out his protective instincts… and massively turned him on.

Next to the lamp on her bedside table was a framed picture that her Mom had taken in Hawaii of her and Finn, standing by the sea, arms wrapped around each other, just looking at each other adoringly. She still had that photo when she died in New York, although she had kept it off display to avoid her husband being unnecessarily jealous — after Finn she'd never really looked at anyone else that way. She loved her husband, certainly, but after losing your soulmate, the unbridled joy of being _in love_ had been irrevocably tempered. Rachel smiled at the memory of that photo being taken. A split second later they had kissed. It wasn't the most passionate they ever shared — after all, her Mom was there — but she just remembered it being so full of love and happiness that she would happily have surrendered the rest of her life to just carry on kissing him for the rest of eternity. Of course at the time she thought they had their entire lives ahead of them, not just six and a half months. She began to tear up again, just wishing he was lying beside her right now. On the bright side, she was back in her old home, reunited with her long-since deceased cat who now seemed to be very much alive and well and licking her paws clean. Rachel smiled and kissed Sheila's furry head. When she opened her eyes again, her attention was drawn back to her bedside table and the object lying next to the photo. Her phone.

The technology seemed so outdated now, compared to what she was used to. The concept of actually having to type in a passcode to unlock it was almost alien. Plus she kind of feared what she would see when she did switch it on, but it would also hold the answers to a lot of questions she had running through her head. Steeling herself, she pushed the home button and looked at the screen. The wallpaper was a selfie she remembered them taking in bed on the evening after the Marie Claire photoshoot. Finn had surprised her by turning up on the shoot to support her and as she'd posed in numerous skimpy outfits, she'd teased him with subtle glances and poses meant just for him. The dark blue jacket worn with very little underneath had been his undoing and he'd caught her wrist as she sashayed past for another costume change. "If we didn't have company you know I'd be fucking you against that desk right now," he whispered in her ear. That night they rushed back to her place and quickly resolved the sexual tension that had been building all day in every position they could think of. When they woke the next morning, Finn had been propped up on one elbow, gazing at her. He told her this was his idea of perfection and had insisted on taking a photo. Their faces close together, smiling at the camera, their sex hair a hot mess. It was the epitome of two people in love.

Rachel dragged her attention back to the matter at hand.

Time: 07:26

Date:07/13/2013

A wave of nausea overcame her and she sat up quickly, sending a surprised Sheila jumping off her onto the empty half of the bed. What the fuck? What kind of sick joke was this?! Like living through that godforsaken day once wasn't enough, she's now expected to go through it all again? What did she do in her first life that was so terrible she should be forced to relive that hideous experience all over again? Was this going to happen every time she died?

Hang on a second. 07:26? The police had said he'd died at about 8:30, possibly 9. Maybe she still had time.

She checked the messages app and flicked through the last messages they'd exchanged.

"Back at the hotel now babe. Going to bed. Can't wait to see you tomorrow. I love you. xoxo"

"Goodnight baby, I love u, too. See u tomorrow. Big kisses. XXX"

She tapped the screen a few more times, going to her favourite number list and tapping the first one to call him. It went straight to voicemail.

"Shit!"

She tried again. Same thing.

"Fuck no. Come on Finn, don't do this to me again!" Adrenaline rushed through her system, her heart pounding and tears already flooding down her face, knowing she was probably the only person who knew what was going to happen in an hour's time if nobody did anything to stop him.

She quickly went into the Internet app and Googled the phone number for the hotel, tapping the link to dial. After a frustratingly long automated menu system, she finally got to the front desk. "Hi, could you please put me through to Finn Hudson's room?"

"I'm sorry miss, we don't have anyone of that name staying here."

"Yes you do. I'm Rachel Berry, Finn's my boyfriend and I'm really worried about him."

"You must be mistaken, madam."

"Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me... Shit… He's under a different name, isn't he?"

Rachel racked her brain trying to think which name he would have booked under. He'd never told her — why would he? They just called each other's cell phones, so they never needed to know each other's booking details or room numbers.

"Michael Hudson? Allan Hudson? Cory Hudson? Finn Monteith? Finn Canuck? Oh God, I don't know!"

"I'm very sorry miss, I can't put you through."

Rachel screamed with frustration as the receptionist hung up on her. What the fuck was she supposed to do now? The only thing she could think of was calling someone in Vancouver and getting them to actually go to the hotel. She'd call the damn police on him if she had to, but that was a last resort. The last thing he needed was to get arrested for possession.

She panicked trying to think of who did she knew in Vancouver that she trusted enough to get him out of this. Andrew. His acting coach. She knew Finn had been due to meet him for breakfast on the day he died. With her entire body shaking with fear, she managed to scroll through her contact list and dialled his number.

"Andrew? It's Rachel. I'm really sorry to call you this early. I'm really worried about Finn. I need you to get to him before..." Her breath caught in her throat and she had to choke it back before she continued. "Before something terrible happens."

"Rachel? Slow down. What's going on?"

"I think he's about to relapse again and I can't get hold of him. His cell phone's going to voicemail and the hotel won't put me through because I don't know which decoy name he was using. You've got to help me Andrew, please?"

"Of course I will. How do you know? Has he said something?"

Shit. She hadn't really thought about how she was going to explain this. She couldn't exactly tell him she was from a parallel universe where Finn Hudson died from a heroin and alcohol overdose in an hour's time.

"I know this sounds insane Andrew but I just kind of... know," she said, unable to hold back a loud sob.

"OK, Rachel, calm down. I'm sure he's fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Anything! Go to the hotel and try to get to him. If they won't let you in, ask them to go check on him. When you get to him, call me."

She heard frantic rustling at the other end of the phone as Andrew got out of bed, pulled on clothes and grabbed his car keys. His wife asked what was going on and Rachel overheard "It's Rachel, she's worried about Finn — I need to go."

"Okay Rachel, I'm on my way. I'll call you as soon as I have any news."

"Thank you Andrew, thank you so much."

The next half hour was horrific. As much as she wanted to get a flight straight there to be with him, being without phone reception for two and a half hours wasn't an option right now. Instead, she just sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest feeling utterly helpless as huge sobs wracked her body, waiting for news from Andrew while repeatedly calling Finn's cell phone, hoping he'd switched it on or that the repeated calls would override that Do Not Disturb feature. With no response, Rachel reflected that this was like some sort of twisted Schroedinger's Cat experiment. The police and coroner had only been able to roughly estimate his time of death. They might already be too late, but they wouldn't know until someone got into his room to talk to him. Until then all she could do was wait.


	3. Chapter 3 - Love You More

**Chapter 3**

Andrew raced through downtown Vancouver, desperately hoping that Rachel's intuition had been wrong. He'd known Finn for years and they shared a very special relationship, more like father-son than teacher-student, especially given Finn's broken relationship with his own father. When they had first met, Finn had been cynical about the idea of being paid to act — he said it all seemed too easy — but it had been easy to convince him to at least give it a try, especially since the other alternatives involved uninspiring manual labour or finding a million different ways to say the phrase "Welcome to Walmart". Finn was clearly a man who needed to be kept busy for the sake of his own sanity, so Andrew had spent a lot of extra time with him, working on his cold-reading abilities to help him get through auditions.

He had been so incredibly proud watching this once lost young man find his place in the world, discover success with Glee and become a perfect boyfriend to Rachel. He remembered the day Finn had come to meet him after the last acting class of the day and told him that he'd got the part in the Fox pilot he'd been auditioning for, but he seemed more nervous than excited. When he pressed Finn on the subject, the young man strode over to the computer in the corner of Andrew's office and did a quick YouTube search, bringing up a video of a fresh-faced, dark-haired girl on a Broadway stage. Finn stared at her, transfixed, as he remarked to Andrew "she's my character's love interest in the show. Listen to this."

The pair of them watched in silent appreciation of this very talented singer and as her song came to an end, Finn looked up and said, in a hushed tone, "what the hell are they doing casting me opposite her? She's in a whole other league. Come to think of it I don't even think I'm playing the same sport."

Andrew took Finn by the shoulders and turned him round to face him. "Finn, you've got to trust the casting team on this one. You've put a lot of hard work in and you're going to do great. Sure, she's a fabulous performer, but she's probably been on Broadway since she was five..."

"Eight, actually," Finn corrected. "She got a part by accident when she went to an audition with her friend," he continued, immediately blushing when he realised that knowing so much about her kind of gave away the fact that he'd spent four hours the previous night finding out everything he could about this Rachel Barbara Berry. When Andrew raised an eyebrow, Finn added "What? I was doing my research, okay?"

Andrew nodded with a knowing smile on his lips, patting his protege on the back. Who knew that five years later, that young Broadway starlet would be the one looking at Finn like he'd hung the moon?

As he approached a red stop light, his mind wandered back to the conversation he'd had with Rachel just a few minutes ago and his thoughts turned to the job in hand. She'd said that the hotel wouldn't put her through to his room because she didn't know his decoy name. He didn't either and this was going to be a problem. If they wouldn't let someone talk to him on the phone, how was he supposed to persuade them to let him go to Finn's room? Even if he could just sneak into the lift behind a guest, he didn't know Finn's room number. He pondered the problem as the light turned green and he turned on to West Waterfront, just a couple of blocks from the hotel.

As Andrew's about to get out of his car, he grabs a prop from his glove box, silently grateful for the fact that they'd let him keep it after his last TV show.

Crossing the lobby, he confidently approached the reception desk, assuming an air of superiority.

"Could you tell me which room Mr Hudson is in, please?"

The blonde-haired receptionist, named Heather, according to her name badge, looked up from her computer screen. "I'm sorry sir, we don't have anyone of that name staying here."

Damn. He'd really hoped he'd be able to get what he needed without having to do this, but the receptionist was leaving him with no other option. Andrew reached in his pocket and pulled the prop police badge out of his jacket pocket, showing it to the girl long enough that she'd identify it but not so long that she'd spot it was fake.

"Inspector Jake Harrison, Vancouver PD."

"Oh," Heather replied, surprised. "Is he in trouble?"

"No, not at all. Mr Hudson reported a crime and I need to take a witness statement."

"Of course, Inspector, it's room 815, eighth floor. Here's a key card for the elevator," she said, pressing a few keys on the computer and swiping a plastic card through the machine on her desk.

"Thank you," Andrew said curtly, striding away toward the elevator quickly before she caught on, tucking the prop back in his pocket.

As soon as the elevator doors were safely closed, he started to think about the next step of his mission. This was going to require handling with kid gloves. Finn could be feisty and the last thing he needed if he was relapsing was to be antagonised.

The elevator doors opened and Andrew followed the signage to room 815, knocking softly on the door.

"Finn, it's Andrew." No answer. He tried knocking harder.

"Finn, let me in!"

Nothing. Clearly, Rachel was right to worry. He banged on the door again, desperately trying the door handle in vain.

"Finn! Just open the door. Come on dude, Rachel's freaking out! She's really worried about you."

Almost immediately, he heard movement in the room and a second later the door unlocked. On instinct, Andrew stuck his foot against the door frame just in case Finn changed his mind.

"What's up, man?" Finn said, rubbing his eyes sleepily then running his hand through his bed-head hair. "You're early, I thought we said 10:30?"

"We did."

Andrew looked around, suddenly aware that they were in full view of anyone in the hotel corridor and he really didn't want to have this conversation here. He pushed past a very confused Finn into the room and took a seat on the small couch looking out over the water.

"I had a call from Rachel," Andrew began. "She's been trying to call you but she couldn't get through. She was worried you'd relapsed again."

"No, I'm fine, honestly… I just…" Finn looked around the room as if searching for something, then smoothed back the bed sheets until he found his phone, pressing the top button.

"Battery's dead," he said, plugging it into the charger. "I'm sorry she dragged you out of bed for nothing."

"No, it's fine. At least you're okay. That's all that matters," Andrew said, his eyes briefly looking around the room for any sign of drugs. His gaze settled on the two empty champagne bottles and collection of glasses on the table beside the couch.

"Good night?"

"Yeah, just caught up with some of the guys from the cake shop and they came back here for a while. None of those were mine, in case you're wondering."

"It's okay, Finn, I'm not your Mom." Andrew retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialled Rachel's number. It barely had a chance to ring before she answered and he knew she'd been poised by the phone, willing it to ring.

"Hey Rachel. Yeah, I'm with him. He's fine. You want to talk to him?"

Andrew held out his phone and Finn somewhat reluctantly took it from his friend. "Rachel?"

"Finn?"

"Yeah, it's me babe."

Rachel released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. 59 years she'd waited to hear that beautiful voice again and in that moment, it was worth every second of the wait. She couldn't quite believe this was happening and it wouldn't feel real until she was back in his arms again. Her heart skipped a beat when he called her 'babe'. He was alive and that was the very best she could have hoped for.

"Oh thank God!" she sobbed. "Are you okay, baby?" Tears streamed down Rachel's face as she tried to restrain all the years of heartbreak she'd suffered.

"I'm fine. Why are you so upset?" He hated hearing her cry and not being there to do something about it, but she was a crier and there had been many phone calls over the years where he'd just sat and listened to her sobbing, whispering comforting words until she calmed down but this was different — she was borderline hysterical.

"I…" Again, how the hell was she supposed to explain this? "I just got this feeling…" she started, gasping for air through her tears. "It was horrible… I thought you were…" she tried to continue but the words stuck in her throat like she was choking and all that came out was another sob.

"Sweetheart, please don't cry. I'm so sorry I scared you babe, my battery ran out and I forgot to put it on charge before I went to bed. I'm such an idiot."

"No," she sniffed, "no, you're not an idiot… you're perfect."

"Hardly," Finn remarked, thinking back to all the crap he'd put her through this year. Before he had time to mentally berate himself for being a shitty boyfriend, she spoke up again.

Suddenly, hearing his voice wasn't enough. She had to see him and she couldn't wait until he got back to LA. "I miss you, Finn, I'm coming up to see you."

"What? No baby, that's insane! I'll be back in LA in a couple of days. Why don't I just see you at your place?"

"Because I need to be with you… now." He knew from her tone that she meant business and any argument he put up now would just serve to make her more determined.

"Okay, fine. I'll see you later. Give me a call when you get to the airport — I'll come pick you up, okay? And please stop worrying about me, I'm doing alright. I love you."

"Love you more," she smiled, knowing what was coming next. It had started with a silly bit of pillow talk early in their relationship. He said he loved her more than there were fish in the ocean, more than the number of leaves on the trees, more than the number of times Barbara Streisand had sung "The Way We Were" and so on, and she'd follow everything with 'Love you more'. Finally, he'd given up trying to think of ever more ridiculous things to say, so he'd simply ended the conversation with a deep, passionate kiss and…

"If you say so."

It had become their signature goodbye, the last words of every phone call, in fact the last words they ever spoke to each other and it felt so damn good to hear him say it again after all this time.

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews so far — keep 'em coming!**

**I feel like this chapter could have done with more polishing, but I didn't want to keep anyone waiting too long and I was inspired to make up a story behind a certain person's new tattoo. **

**Next chapter may bring more angst, but only because adversity will make them stronger.**


	4. Chapter 4 – Luck

**Warning: This chapter is pretty heavy, but I promise I'll have everything work out fine. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters and I don't mean any harm by this — it's just my way of coping and trying to process everything that's happened.**

**Chapter 4**

Rachel sat in bed, her left hand slowly releasing the death grip it had on the cool cotton sheets as silent tears continued to flood down her cheeks and fall on the soft, well-worn t-shirt she'd worn to bed. It was a mixture of shock and relief. Just an hour or so ago she'd woken up, apparently reincarnated as a younger version of herself, terrified that she was going to have to re-live her life without her soulmate all over again. Thank God things were different in this incarnation. She'd just spoken to him for the first time in nearly six decades — like actually had a conversation with him, not just the monologues she'd delivered to him while he was gone — and it felt incredible but until she saw him, held him, felt his big, strong arms wrap her up in a hug and heard his heartbeat again, she knew it wouldn't feel real. In fact it probably wouldn't feel real for the rest of this lifetime. She had to get to Vancouver, the faster the better.

Functioning on some kind of auto-pilot, she sprang out of bed, gathering a random assortment of clothes and shoes from her closet, and underwear from the top two drawers of the chest at the foot of the bed, her hands shaking so much she had to take a deep breath just to be able to grab the drawer handle properly. Throwing most of the clothes in her carry-on case, she separated out a top and a pair of skinny jeans to wear on the plane and began to get changed. As she pulled the dark grey t-shirt off over her head, she realised it was one of Finn's. In all the panic, she had missed that detail. It was at least four sizes too big for her and came down to just above her knees, the long armholes making it look like some kind of batwing top on her. And it smelled of him, she noticed, holding it to her nose and deeply inhaling the uniquely comforting, manly, scent. She'd kept a few of his favourite t-shirts in a memory box after he died and every so often would pull one out and curl up in bed with it, crying softly as she remembered cuddling up to him on lazy couch days and wishing the scent would never fade. Of course in time it did, but even after all those years she swore she could still detect it.

Sheila meowed loudly, pulling the human from her trance and hoping she remembered to feed her before she starved to death. Rachel glanced down, stroking the cat's head and tickling her behind the ears, throwing the t-shirt into her purse, changing her clothes, then wandering through to the kitchen and filling Sheila's food and water bowls.

"Don't worry Sheila, I'll get someone to come over and make sure you get fed, but Mommy's got to go to Vancouver to see Daddy," she cooed, smiling as she remembered Finn's amusement at being referred to as "Sheila's Daddy" for the first time. It was still quite early in their new relationship and as soon as the words had left her mouth she had wondered whether she'd gone too far, scared that he would freak out at the concept of commitment but he had confided that he thought he could handle the responsibility of being a cat parent as long as she was Sheila's Mommy. That conversation had made her secretly broody, daydreaming of a time when they might refer to each other as Mommy and Daddy in a different context — he would have been the most amazing father. Of course that had, tragically, never happened, but this time round she had hope that it might and the thought made her a bit giddy with excitement.

Darting into the ensuite, Rachel looked at her reflection in the mirror and wondered whether security would let her through if she were wearing a paper bag over her head. Her eyes were red and puffy from all the crying she'd been doing and the last thing she needed was to get papped at the airport looking like this. She spent a few minutes attempting to disguise it with concealer and mascara before giving up and grabbing the biggest, darkest pair of sunglasses she could find, throwing her makeup bag into her suitcase.

Picking up the Range Rover's keys from the table next to the front door, Rachel ran through a quick checklist in her mind. Purse, house keys, passport. Check. She'd call Air Canada on the way to the airport, book the first flight she could get on and be in Vancouver before dinner.

* * *

Having chatted for an hour or so, Andrew left, agreeing to meet Finn for brunch at 11:30 before they picked Rachel up from the airport, Finn sat slumped on the couch, staring out at the ever-changing view, contemplating how he'd managed to screw up his life so badly. He'd upset Rachel. Not just upset her... She was sobbing on the phone, really heart-wrenching sobs and that killed him. He'd put her through so much this year and yet she'd stood by him and been there for him every step of the way. He should feel good about that — loved, supported — but he didn't. He just felt guilty. He didn't deserve her. He wasn't worthy of being with someone so beautiful, so perfect. Not when he was just a fucked up, thief of a drug addict. She deserved so much more than him. She and Ryan had tried to play up his importance to the Glee family, told him he was a great leader, but he didn't really believe them. He'd never really fitted in. Not at school and most definitely not in Hollywood. He was this screw-up new kid on the block. Sure, people liked his goofy sense of humour but he'd been doing this for, like, five minutes compared to the rest of them and he knew they must look at him as just a pretender. After all, he really wasn't that talented, just happened to be in the right place at the right time. He didn't deserve this level of success.

He groaned out loud in frustration at his internal monologue, sick of going over this shit in his head all the time. He knew he shouldn't do this and he knew he'd hate himself for it in a few hours time but he just needed something to make his brain shut up for a while. Hauling his tall frame out of the plush cushions, Finn grabbed a spoon from the coffee-making facilities, pulled a lighter from the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing the night before and reached into his bag for the last three items — a syringe, a sealed hypodermic needle and a small, folded piece of paper.

* * *

Andrew focused on the road ahead, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music on the radio, looking forward to getting home to his wife while simultaneously reflecting on the thankfully un-eventful morning. When Rachel had called, he'd been seriously worried about what he'd find when he got to the hotel, so he was pretty delighted to discover she'd been wrong. Bless her, she cared so much about that boy. He'd call her later and make sure she'd managed to get a flight okay... Andrew suddenly patted down all his pockets and realised he'd left his phone in Finn's room. U-turning at the next junction, he headed back towards the Pacific Rim.

* * *

Leaning against the ridiculous numbers of pillows on the huge bed, Finn watched, transfixed as he pulled the plunger of the syringe back slightly, seeing his blood mix with the dark amber liquid confirming he'd hit a vein. It was always the strangest feeling — on the one hand he was so completely disgusted with himself that he wanted to cry but on the other he knew the bliss that would follow, so there was no way he could back out now. He needed that warm, comforting feeling. Nothing but happiness and wellbeing. When Rachel had asked him what it was like one time, he told her to think of the best, most intensely pleasurable orgasm she'd ever had — they both knew damn well which one she thought of — and imagine that it lasted for hours. That was what he needed right now. A couple of hours worth of orgasm to take his mind off it. Gradually, he pushed the plunger down, emptying the syringe into his vein. The feeling he'd been seeking hit him almost immediately. Total euphoria.

He barely had time to think "wow, this is pretty strong" before he blacked out.

* * *

Andrew strode confidently across the lobby, reaching in his pocket for the key card to operate the elevator and nodding in Heather's direction. When she raised an eyebrow at him, he simply told her he'd forgotten to get Mr Monteith to sign his witness statement and smiled at her as the doors closed.

On the eighth floor, he wandered along to Finn's room and knocked on the door again. No response. He tried again.

"Finn? It's just me, Andrew, I forgot my phone."

Nothing.

"Finn? Ugh! Why do you have to be such a deep sleeper? Come on, open up!"

Still nothing. Now what? He looked down at the key card still in his hand and decided to give it a try. Miraculously, it worked. Heather must have programmed it for this room, not just the lift.

He stepped quietly into the the room, not wanting to wake his friend and peered round the corner, seeing Finn fast asleep. Andrew crept past, retrieving his phone from between two couch cushions. It wasn't until he turned to leave that he noticed the syringe next to Finn's open right hand. Then he noticed he wasn't breathing.

Shit.

Andrew had taken first aid training to comply with his insurance certificate for his acting classes, but he couldn't remember specifically what to do in case of a drug overdose. What he did remember was ABC - airway, breathing, circulation. He grabbed the pillows from under Finn's head and threw them across the room, then tipped his chin back slightly to open the airway. What was next? Feel for breathing. He put his cheek against his friend's mouth. Nothing. No breathing. Fuck. Okay, feel for a pulse. Andrew felt like time actually stopped as he waited with his fingers pressed against Finn's wrist to feel something, anything, his brow furrowed with concentration. Yes. There was something there. It was very weak, but there was definitely something there.

He started chest compressions while reaching for his phone and managing to dial 911, sandwiching the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he continued the compressions, pausing after every 30 compressions to pinch Finn's nose closed and deliver two rescue breaths, watching his chest rise and fall.

The next eight minutes seemed like hours. The ambulance dispatcher stayed on the phone with him, reassuring Andrew that he was doing a great job and that the paramedics would be with him soon, but his arms were getting tired and he kept begging them to hurry up. Finally, the door opened and the paramedics took over, one intubating to keep Finn's airway open and placing an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth while the other continued the chest compressions. They looked around the room, picking up the spoon and syringe, putting them in a plastic bag just in case the hospital needed to be able to analyse them later, and decided to administer Naloxone which they told Andrew would counteract the effects of the heroin but the effects would not be pretty. Within seconds, Finn's eyes flew open, his limbs flailing around as he screamed in agony, pulling the tube from his throat.

Andrew stood well clear, obviously shocked by the sudden change in his friend. Seconds before, he'd been completely unresponsive, now he was screaming, shouting and swearing. He'd never seen Finn like this, but one of the paramedics explained that the drug had just pulled him sharply out of the extreme painkilling effects of the heroin and it would feel like the worst pain in the world.

The two paramedics began talking calmly to their patient, telling him he'd taken too much and that they had to counteract the heroin if he wanted to live, before loading him onto a gurney and asking Andrew if he wanted to come to the hospital with them. Still stunned at the turn of events, he nodded, grabbed Finn's phone off the nightstand, and stuck it in his pocket.

While one drove the ambulance, the other medic, Sam, continued treating Finn, which at this point involved keeping an eye on his vital signs, calming him down and holding a cardboard vomit bowl in front of him as the Naloxone continued to do its work. Andrew could only stare at him, feeling completely numb.

"Is there anyone you need to contact?" Sam asked, pulling Andrew out of his stunned silence.

Shit! Rachel! She'd be halfway here by now.

"Yes, his girlfriend. Which hospital are we heading to?"

"Vancouver General ER," Sam replied. "There's a back entrance we can arrange for her to use, so she can avoid the press."

Andrew was surprised by that. He hadn't realised that either of the medics knew who Finn was.

"My girlfriend's kind of a fan," Sam confessed.

Andrew just smiled politely and pulled his phone out of his pocket, his hands shaking too much to be able to get to her number so he used the voice dialling feature instead.

"Rachel, it's Andrew... Finn's had an overdose. We're in the ambulance now. You have to come to Vancouver General Hospital. Give me a call when you get this message and I'll update you."

* * *

Somewhere over Washington, Rachel stared out of the window, reclined in the plush first class seat — all she could get at short notice — her cheek resting on Finn's t-shirt which she'd bundled up and was using as a pillow. The adrenaline rush of this morning was starting to wear off and now she was just excited to get to Vancouver and see her man again. In her head, their reunion would involve him waiting right outside the arrivals door for her. She'd walk out into the arrivals hall, scanning the crowd of expectant families waiting for their loved ones. She'd get that slight feeling of disappointment at not seeing him immediately, then she'd look up and spot him towering over the crowd and run to him, his arms opening wide to catch her as she ran and jumped up into his waiting hug. Her legs would automatically wrap around his waist to make up for the height difference as they smothered each other with hungry kisses.

Of course for them, it wasn't quite that simple. If any other couple did that, nobody would bat an eyelid, except maybe the occasional prudish woman nearby. If she and Finn did that, they were sure to end up with it on TMZ or something, so they would do what they always did and be reunited in the blacked-out safety of his rental car. Maybe she'd text him and tell him to meet her in the back seat this time, she smirked.

Just then, the captain's voice filled the cabin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon be starting our descent into Vancouver. Please listen to the cabin crew's instructions to prepare for landing. Thank you for flying Air Canada, I hope you had a pleasant flight."

* * *

Andrew shuffled impatiently on the hard plastic chair in the relatives room. When they'd reached the hospital, Sam had persuaded him to wait here to let the doctors get Finn stable. It felt like he'd been here for hours with no news.

Finally, Sam entered the room, accompanied by a female doctor.

"This is doctor Morgan. She's been treating Finn," Sam explained.

"Is he going to be okay." Andrew asked, eschewing the formalities of an introduction in favour of getting straight to the point.

"Hello Andrew," doctor Morgan said with a small, reassuring smile. "Finn's doing very well, thanks to your first aid skills. You did exactly the right thing. He'd probably have been dead if you hadn't acted so swiftly. As it stands, he's in a lot of pain, but he'll get over it. Of course in time we'll need to discuss his rehabilitation, but for now he's doing as well as can be expected."

Andrew nodded with relief, too stunned to say anything.

"Is there anyone we need to contact," doctor Morgan asked, resting her hand on his.

"His girlfriend's on her way. She'll need to get in through a back door or something. She's kind of famous... they both are..."

"Of course. Just let us know when she's close and we'll have someone meet her at the service entrance. Anyone else?"

"His Mom, Ann... but I don't have her number."

"Don't worry," the doctor said, "we'll track her down for you."

Andrew stared numbly at his hands for a second, his mind flashing back to that hotel room, his hands repeatedly pounding against Finn's chest. He looked up, willing the mental images to go away.

"Can I see him?"

"Of course, come on through."

* * *

As they taxi'd to the gate, the cabin crew gave the announcement that mobile phones could now be used again and Rachel immediately pressed the top button on her phone, waiting a few seconds for the logo to disappear. On the lock screen were a couple of notifications — a message from Finn and a couple of voicemails. She went straight to the message.

~ Sorry for scaring you baby. Can't wait to see you later. Love you. xxx ~

A smile spread across her face as she gathered her carry-on case and walked off the aircraft, thanking the cabin crew as she left, typing a response with her free hand.

~ I just landed so I'll see you very soon. Where are you? And stop apologising! Love you more. xoxo ~

Then she remembered the voicemails and tapped into the phone app as she marched down the corridor to border security.

The first message was from her stylist, talking about dress options for the upcoming Teen Choice awards. She'd call her back later. Second message, 9:46am. Andrew's voice. He didn't sound right. Sounded scared, worried. What was he saying? It was difficult to hear him over the sound of sirens in the background. On some deep level, she did register what he'd said, but she needed to replay the message once more before she actually heard the words. Finn. Overdose. Hospital.

She stopped suddenly as her world collapsed around her.

* * *

**A/N: **What a tough chapter to write. I'm sorry if anyone feels it's too much — I really don't intend to offend anyone. On the up side, Finn's out of immediate danger, although he's still got a lot to deal with.

I've never smoked or taken drugs and I don't drink very often. When River Phoenix died of a drug overdose when I was a teenager, I thought "well, he took drugs, what did he expect?" Like many people, I guess I saw drug users as bad people but this year some friends of mine gave me an insight into the world of addiction and I saw how many incredibly nice, normal, lovely people have been touched by one form of addiction or another and saw how much their lives fell apart because of it. Their stories really touched me and although I still don't condone drug use by any means, I'm so grateful for that insight because it made me compassionate towards the plight of people like Cory — good people, who through certain circumstances have found themselves addicted.

**Please review — I'd love to know what you think.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Withdrawal

**A/N: **Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. Thanks for sticking with me. Lea's Elle interview really made me reflect on a lot of things. She's shown such incredible courage in the way she's dealt with it and I get the feeling that she's surprised herself with the way she's handling it. I wrote chapter 3 as the photos showing Lea's "Love you more/If you say so" tattoo came out. Following the Elle interview it turns out my gut feeling about those being the last words between them was correct.

I also lost a former colleague a couple of weeks ago at a very young age, through something that was no fault of his own, so this one's for him.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own most of these characters. If I did, things wouldn't have worked out the way they did.

**Chapter 5 — Withdrawal**

Andrew sat in the armchair next to the bed as the nurses rallied around their patient. As expected, the drug antagonist was doing its job, sending Finn into immediate withdrawal symptoms, including vomiting, diarrhoea and stomach cramps. His normally sweet, calm persona had flipped and he was swearing and shouting at anyone who came near him, while simultaneously begging for pain relief. It was easily the most distressing thing Andrew had ever seen and he was powerless to do anything to help, so he was glad to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket, apologising to the nurses and using it as an excuse to leave the room for a moment.

In the safety of the corridor, he looked at the caller ID and immediately dreaded the conversation to follow, drawing courage from somewhere to answer the call.

"Rachel?" For a few seconds, all he could hear on the other end of the line was shuddering, uneven gasps for breath.

"Is he…" she desperately tried to get the words out through her tears, but the thought of her worst fears being realised all over again was too devastating for her to continue. At that moment, Andrew remembered the message he'd left her and realised that in all the panic he probably hadn't been all that clear about what was going on.

"No, Rachel, he's okay… he's going to be okay. They managed to give him the antagonist in time. He's in a lot of pain because of the withdrawal, but he's okay. He's safe."

Rachel let out a strangled cry of relief, then took a moment to recompose herself although her whole body still shook.

"Where are you?"

"We're at Vancouver General, Jim Pattison Pavilion. Get a cab to West 12th Avenue and get them to follow the signs to the goods delivery entrance. That way you should be able to avoid any paps. Text me when you leave the airport and I'll be there to meet you."

"Okay," said the quietly shocked voice. "I'll speak to you later."

"Alright… and Rachel, please try not to worry too much. I promise, he's going to be fine."

Rachel ended the call and stood, shell-shocked, in the middle of the corridor as people swarmed past her on their way to passport control. Andrew had brought up something which hadn't even crossed her mind. The paparazzi. If word had got out, the airport arrivals lounge would be swamped with photographers trying to get pictures of the distraught girlfriend rushing to the bedside of her "junkie" boyfriend. The whole sorry state of affairs would be plastered across every Hollywood gossip site within moments and that was the last thing she or Finn needed right now. Somehow, she had to get out of the airport and into the hospital without being seen. Looking down at her phone again, she scrolled through her contacts list and found the name of a contact she and Finn had at the airport — Rod. He'd been super helpful on their previous visits, always making their arrival and departure smooth and press-free. As she waited for him to answer, she reflected on the fact that normal people never had to worry about this kind of crap. They'd simply get a cab to the front door of the hospital and nobody would care. Unfortunately this was their world and everyone wanted to know their business…

"Rod? It's Rachel Berry here. I need your help."

Ten minutes later, Rachel stared out of the window as Vancouver passed by. Rod had rushed her through border security and escorted her out of a staff entrance to a waiting car, driven by an airport executive's chauffeur, which would take her to the hospital. She owed Rod big time.

As instructed, the chauffeur drove through dark tunnels to the goods entrance, where a member of hospital security staff opened the door for her and ushered her inside.

Andrew was waiting just inside the door and she fell into his embrace, letting her tears fall freely. It broke his heart to see her like this and all he could do was rub his hands comfortingly up and down her back, her heaving sobs bringing tears to his own eyes which he desperately tried to fight back, just trying to stay strong for her.

"Thank you so much for being there for him," she whispered into his shoulder.

"Any time Rachel, you know that. Come on, let's go see your man."

Finn's main nurse, Katie, took a few moments to tell Rachel what to expect before she saw him. After all, Katie had seen it all before and knew what a shock it was for loved ones to see their partners in such a state. She explained that as far as they could tell, the overdose was a result of a one-off lapse — there was no evidence that he had been using regularly, but it would likely take five days to a week for the symptoms of withdrawal to start disappearing and that in the meantime she should expect him to be irritable, achy and very sick… but he would be okay. Different people reacted in different ways — he might say or do things which were out of character, including possibly pushing her away or shouting at her. They were all just symptoms, Katie said, so Rachel shouldn't be concerned about his personality permanently changing, although she should remove herself from the room or push the panic button if he hurt her at all. He might beg her to give him something for the pain, but the most important thing right now was to just let the symptoms pass unaided, as hard as that might be. There was a lot to get through and it would all be extremely unpleasant. They would obviously need to talk about rehab at some point but the immediate concern was to just get him through the initial withdrawal period. Rachel nodded, barely taking any of it in, just desperate to see her boy.

"He's in here," Katie said, directing Rachel to an anonymous white door, holding it ajar for her.

Rachel took a deep breath before entering the room. For years, she'd dreamed of seeing him again but now she stood with just a door separating her from him, she noted that this wasn't the way she'd wanted it to be. In her dreams, he'd just fly back from Vancouver clean and happy and their lives would continue as planned — they'd get engaged, married, have babies… Of course she should have realised that under the circumstances it was never going to be that clear-cut. Even if he hadn't overdosed, his addiction had still been there and they would have faced some tough times getting through that. Now she had a second chance at her life post-2013, she understood that she was going to have to face those tough times with him. But it was better with him than without, Rachel thought, pushing the door open fully.

As much as the nurse had tried to prepare her for what she might see in there, she could never have anticipated this — her strong, protective, 6' 3" boyfriend lay curled up in a foetal position, shivering violently and sobbing as wave after wave of unbearable pain crashed over him. She felt sick and it suddenly struck her that she never once saw him cry. He'd always been the strong one, the one who was there to comfort her when she was having a bad day, the one she leaned on when she was tired, who wrapped his arms around her and immediately made her feel safe… and yet here he was looking like a sick, scared, small child. For a few moments, all she could do was stand in the doorway and try to process what was going on. He was here. Alive, but so consumed with pain that he didn't even notice her enter the room. The rational part of her brain told her to get out of there to avoid her emotions getting the better of her, but the invisible tether between them drew her in silence to his bedside, her hand smoothing the sheets over his shoulders. This time she had to be the strong one and she'd be by his side come what may.

He flinched at her touch, turning to look at the intruder, his eyes slowly focusing on her face. The image of her face at that moment would be burned into his memory forever — she looked completely terrified, shocked and broken-hearted and he immediately hated himself for being the cause of it. He buried his face in the pillow, humiliated and ashamed at the situation he found himself in.

"Oh baby," Rachel choked out, her fingers running comfortingly through his sweat-soaked hair and kissing his damp temple.

"You shouldn't have come," Finn mumbled into the pillow, "you shouldn't have to see me like this."

"I don't care, I just care that you're safe. I love you. I love you so much sweetheart," she whispered, peppering his hairline with kisses, her hot tears becoming lost in the sticky mass of hair. "As long as you're willing to try to get clean we'll get through this baby, I promise we'll do whatever we have to do to get through it," she said, reassuring herself as much as him.

"It hurts so much, Rach," he sobbed, his eyes meeting hers, his face contorting as another stabbing pain hit him, his hand grabbing hers for comfort. "But I want to get clean. I have to. You deserve better than this."

His sentiments were sweet and her first-time 27-year-old self probably wouldn't have questioned them, but over the years since his death she'd come to realise that he worried way too much about other people and not enough about himself. Some years after his overdose, she'd become involved with several drug addiction charities and learned that a lack of self-esteem was probably a contributing factor to Finn's relapse. At first she'd found that hard to believe — after all, he was a seemingly confident and extremely handsome man, so what did he have to doubt about himself — but now she saw the truth. In this moment, his self-loathing was all too evident.

"No!" Rachel said forcefully, her hands moving to cup his face, giving him no choice but to look her in the eyes. "We're not doing this for me. We're doing it for you. YOU deserve better than this."

She held his gaze, expecting an argument that never came. Instead, Finn simply nodded and buried his face in her shoulder, trying to concentrate on her sweet scent, the comforting movement of her fingers through his hair and the feel of her arms holding him tight to distract himself from the pain he was experiencing. What the fuck had he been thinking? He asked himself. Had he really been willing to risk losing her for the sake of a stupid hit? Fucking idiot. He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to not only have been found before it was too late but that his amazing, beautiful girlfriend hadn't just walked out on him after seeing him like this. Anyone else would have looked at that hospital bed and seen some scumbag junkie sweating out their addiction and run a mile. She had the courage to see past that, to just see the man she loved in a really, really bad place and she was still willing to support him, kiss and hold him. She saw the person he always tried so hard to be. He made a promise to himself in that moment, as he clung to her, that he would never do that shit again. The life he had with Rachel was way too precious to risk for anything.

**Please review and let me know what you think. Is there anything you'd like to see covered in future chapters?**


End file.
